


we’re all different baby (but that’s what i like)

by keep_swinging



Category: Z-O-M-B-I-E-S (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Some Humor, make-out session
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23324149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_swinging/pseuds/keep_swinging
Summary: Zed doesn’t crash Prawn.Wyatt does.
Relationships: Wyatt Lykensen/Addison Wells
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	we’re all different baby (but that’s what i like)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apocalyvse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocalyvse/gifts).



> I am really stuck on the wyaddison train guys so just keep an eye out lol. This story came from a prompt from Roo (who this fic is gifted to) so blame her for dragging me back here (or don’t because I do seriously love writing these two as a pairing, lol). Hope you guys enjoy and leaving kudos, and more importantly, comments down below would make my night!
> 
> prompt: Zed doesn’t crash Prawn but Wyatt does.

“Can I have this dance?”

There’s a point in time where Addison thinks he’s really coming.

He’ll crash the party, make a scene, apologize even, if she allows her mind to wander that far, and be everything that she wished for and more.

The voice that calls out to her isn’t his, it’s raspier, more daring, bold in all the right ways and Addison turns around to meet it. She knows who she’s expecting and knows who is actually there but her eyebrows raise in surprise anyway when she sees Wyatt standing there, dressed in a suit with fur, if you could believe it.

His dark brown eyes lock onto her, flickering across her face before they dip down to her dress. She opens her mouth to say something about it but his gaze returns to her eyes faster than she can get the words out.

“You look beautiful,” he voices, honest, his eyes reflecting his words.

Breathing something into her she didn’t even know she needed, like a breath of fresh air across a field polluted with pollen. Lifting something from her shoulders she didn’t even know she was carrying. Pushing her heart to beat just a little faster with excitement, still reeling from such a compliment.

She forgoes the thank you. “What are you doing here?”

He smirks at first before glancing down to his boots, which aren’t his usual attire either.

He looks _good_ , she thinks, as she takes in his perfectly messy hair, the crisp suit, the wrinkled pants, even the chain his moonstone necklace is attached to, still giving him life even as his own slowly begins to dim.

He looks really good, she thinks as he looks back up at her.

He’s smiling now, his smirk faded away and replaced by something soft and unlike any part of him she has seen. He’s not baring his teeth with a snarl, standing tall at his sister’s side, _angry_ for being outcast before anyone even knew who he was.

He’s not pulling against silver handcuffs, helpless and dejected and thinking they’re about to watch their moonstone be taken from them _again_ , like faith wants to play some cruel game.

He’s not looking at her in betrayal, lips pulled and eyes shining with something that makes her heart ache.

“I’m here to ask for a dance,” he says, interrupting her thoughts. “So. May I have this dance?”

Addison’s heart jumps at the request, urging her to say yes before she’s even thought anything through. He holds out his hand, claws outstretched toward her. She looks down and then back up to his face, her own lips curling into a smile when she sees that his hasn’t left.

Zed wasn’t coming. He made his decision and now, she was making hers.

She slips her hand into his and he takes it, squeezing her hand as he begins to pull her to a different part of the room, through groups of people and past the table where the punchbowl sits. He stops when he finds an open space of floor, and as if on cue a slower-paced song starts, gentle guitar strums echoing through the room, the mood shifting.

He’s gentle, and extremely careful with his claws, when he brings her hand up, Addison’s other hand coming to a rest on his waist. There’s distance between them but they’re still close as they begin to sway to the song.

Addison realizes all the werewolves are there as her eyes wander from Wyatt to the surroundings around her, taking in Willa and Wynter laughing along with some other wolves a few feet away. Some of the guy wolves are trying their hand at dancing with some zombies, others content to just bust a move by themselves out of the way.

“Everyone came,” she whispers, catching Wyatt’s attention.

He looks over, following her line of sight to where three zombies are trying to show Wade and Wilder, two more clumsily-footed werewolves, how to dance more like a zombie. He chuckles softly, interrupted only by Addison’s heartbroken expression.

“He didn’t come.”

Wyatt’s eyes lock back on her, waiting for her to continue.

“I was hoping he would be here, Wyatt,” she says quietly, following his slow footsteps in perfect rhythm. “I was hoping we would be here, together.”

The werewolf nods, smirking to himself before suddenly pulling back and twirling her under one arm, Addison caught off-guard but laughing and smiling at his antics nonetheless.

She wonders how someone so carefree could be so dangerous.

Wonders how Seabrook had taken one look at the werewolves and decided they were monsters, throwing them aside before they even had a chance. Wonders how anyone could look at Wyatt and see a threat with sharp fangs and amber eyes instead of a boy with kind eyes and an even kinder heart.

He twirls her once more to the beat of the music, Addison absolutely unable to keep herself from smiling. He pulls her gently toward him as the spin finishes, and it’s just enough force for her to fall back into him.

One of Wyatt’s arms shoots around her waist as he catches her against him, her back against his front, his other hand still holding tightly onto hers, his lips near the shell of her ear. Her breath hitches at the contact, at the feel of his chest against her back, and her heart feels like it could burst from how quickly it's beating.

He’s warm, warmer than any human and definitely warmer than any zombie. And it might be a little crazy, but she swears she can feel his moonstone, feel the life it’s breathing into him, every breath of his a breath taken from the stone.

It might even be a little bit crazier that she thinks she can feel the uneven stutter of his chest, breaths that aren’t fully alive, fueled by a moonstone that’s already half-gone.

It has to be the energy from the moonstone that gives him warmth, she thinks absently, trying her best to slow her heartbeat and _not_ act as flustered as she feels. His palm is heavy in hers when he squeezes her fingers, and the tender action jolts her back to reality.

Zed.

She has Zed. Wyatt has—

She doesn’t know what Wyatt has, but he doesn’t have her.

“Wyatt,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, her empty hand coming to a rest on top of the arm he has circled around her. “I have—“

“Zed,” He replies evenly, undoubtedly, slowly removing his arm from around her waist.

Their hands stay together until she’s turning to face him, and only then do they fall, his calloused fingers slipping from her manicured ones. She’s worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and Wyatt can’t help but chuckle, causing her eyes to snap to his.

“What?” She asks him as the room around them comes alive again, the playlist switched to something a bit more upbeat. Zombies are pop-locking, werewolves are breakdancing and the humans are doing something not akin to either of those.

“Don’t let him ruin your night,” he states, brazenly; not that she would expect anything less. “You’re here and he isn’t. Big deal. It just means that tonight is going to be your night. Your time to shine.” He finishes in a higher-pitched tone, attempting to mock Bucky, even going as far as adding on jazz hands and a huge fake grin.

Everything put together makes Addison erupt into laughter, full double-over, hands to her stomach laughter and she hears the rumble of Wyatt’s own chuckles from above her. When she’s able to breathe again she rises back to her full height, seeing that gleam in Wyatt’s eyes again, the one she can’t describe. She knew Zed like the back of her hand, but Wyatt . . .

Wyatt was a mystery she had yet to unravel.

Pushing that thought aside she smooths her hands down the sides of her dress, fixing the slightly disheveled look it had gained from their impromptu dancing.

“Bucky is the worst.”

“Can I show you something?”

They nearly speak at the same time, barely a millisecond separating them.

Wyatt looks hopeful, the corners of his lips twitching up, like he already knows she’s not going to say no. When he smirks after she nods her head, she feels her heart flutter. When his fingers slip around her wrist, she feels her heart skip a beat.

He leads her out of the gymnasium, the double doors closing behind them with a loud click as he leads them down the pitch-black hallway, the moon shining in from the windows at the end of the hall.

“I can’t see anything,” Addison whispers, afraid of being caught sneaking out of Prawn, her voice echoing off the rows of lockers around them. Wyatt squeezes her hand, and she still can’t get over how careful he is with his claws, all bark, no bite.

“I won’t let you fall,” he promises, sidestepping a forgotten backpack and bringing her along with him.

She smiles and follows behind him the rest of the way, reaching the exit doors after two more turns and one last long hallway. Wyatt releases her hand and tests the push bar to see if the security alarm will go off, fiddling around with it, but it doesn’t and he turns back to Addison, outside light seeping in through the door’s rectangular window and highlighting his smirk.

“After you,” he says as he pushes open the door with one hand, holding it open for her, the hallway bathed in light.

“Thank you,” Addison replies with a small laugh, and he follows her out into the moonlight.

They’re on the side of the school that faces the woods, dense with trees and broken branches and overgrown brush. There are wisps of clouds floating through the sky, sluggish in their race past the full moon, careless in who finishes first.

Addison can’t help but wonder if the werewolves gain any new powers, or grow stronger, under the full moon.

Wyatt leads them over to where the double shrimp statue sits, leaning back against the thick ledge. She does the same next to him, crossing her arms while he tucks his hands into his pockets. The moon’s light catches the silver of the chain holding his moonstone necklace, and Addison’s eyes go right to it. 

She misses his smile. “Go ahead. Ask me anything.”

Addison glances up, debating. “I don’t want to overstep,”

He scoffs, shaking his head, his lips pulling up again. “You’re no threat to us, cheerleader. Or, Great Alpha, if you prefer.”

She ducks her head, ashamed, even though his tone was light and joking. She still feels bad about it, about being so certain and then so crushed, and she can only imagine how the werewolves had felt after searching for years and years.

How Wyatt must’ve felt after putting so much time into her.

“I still feel horrible about that. I’m sorry for getting everybody’s hopes up. I never meant to mislead you or—“

“I don’t regret it.” He interrupts, his lips still pulled in a knowing smile. “I don’t regret thinking that it was you, or believing that it was you. Or spending time with you. I don’t regret any of it.”

Her cheeks are pink as she looks away, back out to the woods so far away. She always thought the woods, the Forbidden Forrest even, was something out of reach. Something whimsical, nothing more than a fairytale, even though she looked at those woods every drive to Cheer Camp. As it turned out, the woods were never too far.

“Anything?” She asks him, her gaze sliding back over to meet his.

He nods, the barest tilt of his head.

She turns back to staring at the woods, watching the trees creak and sway under a random gust of stray wind. Knowing that all the werewolves are at Prawn makes the forest seem eerily empty for some reason.

“Does the full moon give you guys any extra powers?”

He chuckles, amused by the question. “No. Full moons don’t do or change anything about us.”

Makes sense, she thinks, before continuing with another question. “How is Willa the alpha?”

“We both qualified she just, edged me out.”

Addison doesn’t push for more information when she hears the tone in his voice.

“What’s your favorite food?”

He’s caught off-guard by the question and it makes him smile.

“S’mores.”

Addison scrunches her nose, “Werewolves eat s’mores?”

He shrugs, “The were-pups enjoy them and so do I. What’s wrong with that?” She’s unable to stop the laugh that tumbles out of her, and then the next question she asks turns things serious again.

“Can you take off your moonstone necklace and not . . . you know?”

Wyatt lifts a single eyebrow, “You mean die?”

At her timid nod he shakes his head and looks down to his boots.

It was a funny question once upon a time, one that would always be answered with _we wolves will never die_ but things had changed in the last year. Things were different now. Things were always different, and difficult, and Wyatt really didn’t understand why.

“We can take our necklaces off, but only for a limited amount of time. While our moonstone is separated from us, we don’t have any powers and revert back to almost completely human.”

While she’s taking the information in he continues, reminding her of what is his reality.

“Talking about death or dying isn’t something new to me, Addison.” He says calmly, choosing his words carefully. “You don’t have to be afraid of it.”

He looks up as he says it, his eyes locking on the bare skin of her shoulders. She finally turns back around, goosebumps pricked all the way up her arm.

He wants to give her his jacket. He wonders if that’s truly overstepping when she has a boyfriend named Zed. She notices his gaze, notices how similar it is to how Zed looks at her. Her heart doesn’t beat this fast when Zed looks at her this way. Not like how it does when it’s Wyatt instead.

“I’m only afraid because of what could happen to you. Your moonstone is gone.”

Her voice has a certain pitch to it that makes Wyatt shift in place, pulling his hands from his pockets so he can cross them over his chest.

He doesn’t want to meet her eyes but finds he can’t look away.

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Addison.” He almost calls her Addy, almost crosses a line that isn’t his to cross. “Nothing is going to happen to any of us. We’ll be okay.”

She looks upset, he realizes, she looks upset and more vulnerable than he’s ever seen her.

It makes his heart ache.

There’s a part of him that nearly reaches forward to pull her into a hug that’s a little more than friendly. Instead he shifts again, because the truth is, he doesn’t know if they’re going to be okay. How could they survive without the very thing that kept them alive?

“What’re you thinking over there, Great Alpha?” He keeps his tone quiet, aiming for playful but falling short because she’s blinking fast, trying to stop the tears before they start. His heart jumps, of course, of course, he always screwed everything up, of course, and takes a step toward her, reaching for her. “Addison I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“I’m sorry. I just . . . I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you,” she says, “to any of you. You lost something you can’t ever get back and it . . . I . . . “

His fingers close around her bicep, warm to the touch.

“I’ll be okay, Addison. Promise.”

When she looks at him, she takes in his features all over again under a different light. The tuft of white hair that matches hers, messy as always, clashing with the dark color of his eyes. The sharp jawline, the beta markings placed preciously on his cheek, the pull of his lips as he smiles at her, that look he’s been using all night making another appearance.

She wants to hold his hand.

She wants to—

“Come on,” he whispers, jerking his head towards the doors they had exited through. “Let’s go back inside. You’re freezing.”

She nods, allowing him to pull her back inside the school without another word, the silence heavy between them. There’s something there neither one of them want to cut through as they make their way down the pitch-black hallway, Addison’s hand now clutched in his.

She worries that this is it, that she pushed too far and he doesn’t want to push back, that this was all just one big mistake. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way about her.

They’re about halfway back to the gymnasium when Wyatt stops walking, Addison bumping into him. “What’s wrong?” She asks him, barely able to see him turn toward her, no light anywhere, Addison only able to rely on his shadow.

“Do you trust me?”

His lips are inches away from hers.

His breath is warm. He’s warm, she can feel it, can feel him from where his hand is slowly curving around her waist, sending chills racing up her spine. He’s so close to her that it causes her heart to hammer. She can’t pinpoint an exact emotion, if its exhilaration bubbling, or butterflies fluttering, or nerves buzzing.

It’s something different. He makes her feel something different, something a little bit more exciting, a little bit more careless. Something unknown yet familiar. Something completely insane.

Yet she can’t bring herself to look away.

“I trust you.”

She swears she sees his lips curl upward, and maybe he smiles that smile he’s been using with her all night, or maybe he smirks that smirk that reminds her just how much of a troublemaker he can be, before he kisses her.

She doesn’t know which it was, but as she kisses back, she begins to find that she doesn’t care because there is something better than watching the curve of his lips, and it’s kissing him.

It’s short and sweet, barren of things she thinks he wants to say but can’t find the right words to. It only lasts a few seconds, and then he pulls away.

There’s some distance between their faces again, but not much as they stare at each other, palpable tension for _something more_ filling the small space between them.

It feels like extremely too long before one of them makes the first move.

Addison initiates the next kiss, both of their emotions stronger the second time around. Her hands tangle in his hair as his grab at both sides of her waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss, the tension hanging over them dissipating.

Addison is the first one to take a step back, which is all the confirmation Wyatt needs before they both stumble toward the lockers, laughs escaping both of them when they nearly fall over that left behind backpack again. Addison’s back hits the row of lockers with a soft thump, and once their chuckles come to a stop they’re kissing again, lips, cheeks; a soft gasp escapes her when they break apart for air and his lips move to the bare skin of her shoulder before finding their way to her neck.

Her hands fumble at his chest and then she’s sliding his suit jacket from his shoulders, the material falling into a clump at their feet.

She tilts his head back up so that she can kiss his lips again, his own hands gripping her hips tighter, wanting to wander, but before anything else can happen there’s a loud bang and the floor begins to quake.

They both whip their heads towards the noise just in time to see a large crack begin to form in the floor, breaking apart stone and cement.

Addison clutches at Wyatt’s vest and he holds her against the lockers, out of harm’s way, the entire school trembling and rumbling as fissures trickle out of bigger cracks, one wall collapsing completely in a distant abandoned classroom. Wyatt feels the pulsing before the rumbling stops, something calling him, and he blinks, trying not to get his hopes up because if it’s not _there_ then—

The rumbling stops.

Addison’s hold doesn’t loosen, her nails catching on the buttons of his vest. Wyatt only pulls away from her a second later so he can take a step towards the hole in the ground, her hands now clutching empty air. His eyes widen when he sees the purple glow emitting from the hole and something in his chest feels lighter.

Maybe they would all be okay after all.

He turns back to Addison, half a step down, standing on concrete still crumbling.

“It’s the moonstone,” he says with a disbelieving laugh, his eyes going back to the newly formed cave-in.

Before Addison can respond there’s footsteps, a large group of them, some heavy, some light. Willa comes around the corner first, going right to her brother and throwing her arms around him, holding him tightly for a quick moment. She pulls back just as fast and whispers something to him that Addison doesn’t catch.

“I’m okay,” Wyatt tells her, his voice low, comforting.

She grips his wrist for a second before letting go and taking a step back, just in time for all their friends to come barreling around the corner, Zed at the forefront. As soon as his eyes land on Addison he runs to her, wrapping her up in his arms and squeezing her tightly, thankful that she’s okay because he wasn’t there for her.

He presses a kiss to her hair and then another to her forehead, pulling back so he can look at her, see her face.

Addison is speechless.

She wants to ask him what he’s doing there, how he got there, why he didn’t come, why he left her there, alone, at Prawn after _everything_ they had been through.

But the words won’t come out.

They’re stuck in her throat, glued there. Trapped there by other words she _wants_ to say, words that would make Zed understand what she just did because he wasn’t there. He was never there.

As Zed’s talking, Addison sees Wyatt out of the corner of her eye, standing between Willa and Wynter. He’s looking right at her, something indescribable in his steady gaze, steeling her in place. He doesn’t smirk, or smile.

Her sight flickers back to Zed.

The look on Wyatt’s face doesn’t leave her.

When the wolves decide to descend into the cave, she watches Wyatt from Zed’s arms, watches as he follows Willa down second before turning around and helping Wynter step down. His eyes meet hers again, and this time he’s giving her a look she understands.

And, no.

She doesn’t regret it either.


End file.
